What's in a Name?
by Phantress
Summary: Edward and Jane struggle to agree on baby names. It's a oneshot fluff. Sue me! I own nothing, everything is of the ingenius design of Charlotte Bronte! Read and review please!


"What about Adam?" I suggested.

"Too biblical."

"Edward!" I chided.

"I would not wish_ that_ one on any child, suggest another," he said, pretending that he had misunderstood me and that I was suggesting his own name. Not wishing to acknowledge his clever joke, I tried stifled a smile.

"James then," I continued. "James is a fine name meaning—"

"Meaning _misplaced. _How awful Jane! You'd like to bring him into the world and immediately tell him he is wrong!"

"I think you're making this intentionally difficult," I exclaimed, partly in jest but partly in exasperation.

"Me?" he said, adopting a falsetto voice as if to indicate innocence. "I am being perfectly agreeable. I believe it is _you, _Mrs. Rochester, wanting to tell our child he is displaced right at his birth! Give the poor devil a few years to figure that out on his own."

Walking over to his seat by the fire, I knelt by his feet leaning on his knees, folding my arms.

"Do you know for a fact that 'James' indeed means misplaced?"

"No," he admitted, with a wicked grin, casting his eyes down at my voice.

"What about John?"

Edward did not respond, so I pounced on the opportunity to finally accomplish the task of finding a name for our unborn child we had put off for so long.

"John, meaning 'God is gracious.'"

"Has he been gracious?" he asked in a moment of seriousness.

I smiled sadly at his occasional vulnerability that so exposed itself. I moved to his lap and retied his cravat, needing something to occupy my hands.

"Are you mine, Edward?" he did not respond, but continued to look no where in particular. "Am I your's?" I continued. Bring his chin to face me with my finger, I kissed him tenderly. "Yes, Edward. I would say that God has been gracious to us."

"How are you such an expert on the meaning of names anyhow?" he asked, quickly moving away from the subject of religion.

"At the Rivers house, there was a book. I read every name - it was fascinating. With every person I had ever known, I tried to contrive a connection to their name's meaning."

"And what does your name mean?"

"Since it is the female counterpart of the name John it too means 'God is gracious.'"

There was a pause in our conversation as he reached up with his good hand to stroke my face.

"And my name?"

"Ah, _sir_! You assume I did not skip over your's, simply presuming it meant 'ugly old man'!" Edward laughed loudly. I smiled and continued, "To be honest, it was the first name I looked up. It's a bit disappointing. Edward means, 'wealth protector.'"

"That's it, you witch! You've ruined the biblical allusion with finances," he laughed, wrapping his arms around me.

"So.." I waited for Edward to say something, but he did not. "John, then? John Edward Rochester."

Edward frowned at the suggestion.

"John _Eyre _Rochester," he said with a final tone.

"For my Uncle too, then," I said quietly.

We sat in silence for a moment. Edward rested his only hand on my swollen belly as I tried to sit comfortably, a feeling I had been unable to achieve in any situation for the last few weeks. Sighing, I rested my head on his shoulder, resigned to discomfort.

"You're tired, Jane," Edward said after a time, "let us to bed." We both stood and Edward waited by the door way as I snuffed the candles in the room and poked at the dying fire a bit. Hearing the click of my heels growing closer, he held at the crook of his arm so we could together walk up the stairs.

Once in bed, just before drifting off to sleep, a thought came to me.

"If it is a girl, we shall name her 'Helen.'"

"What does 'Helen' mean, besides 'Paris' lover who starts an entire war,'?"

"That was a name I could not bear to look up," I whispered, "but it was the name of my very best friend."

"It is a fine name," my husband said genuinely, drawing me to him.

"Perhaps our next daughters we could name either Mary or Diana, for my cousins," I suggested, not wanting Helen Burns to be the last thought before falling asleep.

"I've read no book, but I do know that Mary means 'bitter' and that I will not have!" Edward proclaimed, brazenly.

I laughed softly, and then closed my eyes feeling warm, loved and content.


End file.
